


Strangers

by cecld



Category: American Assassin - Vince Flynn, High Road (2011), Teen Wolf (TV), The First Time (2012), The Internship (2013), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: BAMF Stiles, BAMF Thomas, F/M, No realationships tagged because I couldn't be bothered to go through all of them, Other characters not tagged because there are a lot of them, Parallel Universes, Survival, bamf mitch rapp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2018-11-16 21:47:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11261649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecld/pseuds/cecld
Summary: Stiles Stiles Stiles, what did Deaton tell him?Not to touch stuff in his room without his permission!What does he do?Touches something.Which messes up everything, literally everything.He only knows one thing...He needs to survive and some parallel universes just don't seem to want that to happen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Preview**  

 

_They stared, everyone stared._

_Stiles almost felt like he wanted to cry._

_He was-_

_"Uh! Where the fuck are we?!"_

_Still with_ _them all._

_What the hell?_

_"Stiles?"_

_Lydia stepped forward warily_

_"Why is there four almost clones of you in the room with us?!"_

_Stiles sighed "That's a long story"_


	2. A Familiar Voice

Looking back on it Stiles knew this was all his fault. Why didn't he just listen to other people?!

It was simple thing really.

So why on earth did he decide to pick up a shiny rock with a strange symbol on it? It was in Destons office. It had looked interesting but he wasn't some idiot that would go, _oooh shiny, let's pick up the strange glowing rock that you have no clue what the hell it was!_

Way to be a complete utter idiot Stiles!

And now Stiles thought furiously, you are going to die because you are a idiot!

How the fuck was he supossed to know that the odd rock would transport him to a boiling hot desert in a sandstorm?!

His eyes were stinging with sand and he'd had to shut them. The pure heat felt like it was boiling him alive inside.

The sand felt like it was slowly tearing his cells apart.

Oh god he was going to die here!

His eyes stung then but for a very different reason.

_Well done, you've made a complete mess of things like usual!_

Now you're going to die in the desert without anyone even knowing, without even talking to his Dad one last time, or even Scott.

He swore, only to choke as soon as he opened his mouth. Sand coming in.

It felt like he was on fire! His skin felt like it was on fire.

Suddenly he was retched up of the floor, couldn't even see what was going on, the pain and sand was to much for him to look.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

A voice growled in his ear.

It was strange how the voice sounded oddly familiar but also strangely muffled.

Stiles let himself be pushed along.

Could it be? Was he really being saved?!

He had been _so_ sure he was going to die.

Then he was retched up again but this time actually lifted up, strong arms grabbing his waist and heaving him up on top of something that felt metal.

"Wow! This dudes more crazy than you Thomas!" A voice laughed.

"Minho shut it! Let's get him back to our base"

Stiles finally managed to open his eyes, squinting.

Only hazy images of boys, teenagers around his age sat around him.

They were in some kind of rusty truck, cloth were wrapped around the boys faces, only their eyes showing through.

Stiles couldn't see their faces.

Everyone was covered up, despite the boiling heat.

That familier voice again, that guy had called him Thomas?

"What the hell where you doing out in the middle of a sand storm? You're lucky to be alive right now!" Thomas snapped, his voice muffled under the cloth.

Stiles didn't know what to say, his mouth to dry to speak.

The truck had started moving, once everyone was in a stable position.

Stiles noticed a girl, also looked around his age, driving the truck. Eyes focused on ahead, rather what was going on in the back. 

Thomas's eyes narrowed. 

"Well?!" He snapped. 

Stiles stanmered, finding it hard to talk "I-" 

"Tommy you're scaring him" A different, thinner looking boy said, though sounding amused. 

"You sure he isn't from WICKED?" The girl driving finally spoke. 

Thomas sighed "No matter what we like to think, they aren't _that_  stupid" 

Stiles really wanted to protest that statement. But again when he tried to talk it felt like all the moisture had been sucked out of his mouth.  

He coughed loudly, raspy gasping coughs. 

"We'll get you some water once we get back, should get the sand out of your throat and mouth" The skinnier boy said. 

Stiles frowned at then, trying to see them in more detail.

"Who a-are...you?" The dryness and grittiness in his mouth made it hard to get the words out. 

 _"I think_ we should be asking you that mate" The boy who Thomas had called Minho snorted. 

Stilea then realised that he was head to foot in sand, he had felt stange now he knew why.

Stiles brought a sandy hand up to his stinging face. He was covered in sand and dust. 

He had a feeling he looked unrecognisable at the moment. If his Dad saw him he'd probably do a double take. 

"S-Stiles" He said "My...n-names Stiles" 

Might as well tell his rescuers his name, it didn't feel right not to do so. 

Thomas who seemed like the leader of the group nodded. 

He introduced the group "I'm Thomas" 

He pointed to Minho, introducing him and the two others. 

The skinnier one was Newt. 

The girl driving was called Brenda. 

"Stiles is an odd name" Newt muttered.

Brenda rolled her eyes "Like you can talk, _or you_ " She looked pointedly at Minho as he opened his mouth. 

He shut his mouth looking a little sheepish. 

Thomas ignored his friends antics and turned to him "So, _Stiles,_ mind telling us what the fuck you were doing in the middle of a sand storm, in the Scorch of all places?" 

 


	3. Clone?

Stiles was shoved out of the truck quite aggressively by Thomas, the sand still whirled around them and everyone huddled closer as they walked.

Stiles tried not to stumble but almost fell over quite a few times though Thomas actually caught him, moving him on, steadying him. 

Soon they reached an abandoned broken werehouse, its seemed to have stopped being built half way through though it was a great shelter from the storm. 

They all had to go through a lot of rubble to get inside. 

Stiles let out a breath as he took in all the people hiding out here, most where teenagers, a couple of years older than him and only about two adults. 

"Thomas!" A girl around his age, ran over to them. She quickly started to check the group for injuries.

Thomas smiled as soon as he saw her. 

A couple of helloes, smiles and nodds came out of everyone there. 

"Check out what we found Teresa" Minho said, giving Stiles a playful push in her direction. 

Thomas greeted everyone and introduced Stiles to the group, everyone that had looked worried about him seemed to relax after Thomas introduced him. 

He winced and before he could say anything he was suddenly hurried away by Teresa.

She pulled him towards the corner of the warehouse that was blocked of from view from everybody else, put a drink of water in his hand and then told him to sit, very sternly. 

He dropped on to a dirty cloth that was on the ground, so he wasn't just sitting on sand, there was no floor within the half built building. 

Everyone seemed to be talking about him, he could hear whispers around starting. 

"Thomas found him" 

"What kind of idiot gets lost in that?" 

"Why was he even out in that?" 

"What's with his clothes?" 

"He must be okay if Thomas let him in..." 

Teresa stepped in front of him, crouching down next to him. 

"Ignore them" She said then she added "You should drink that, you're probably dehydrated" 

Stiles hesitantly started to drink but thank god it was just water and he drunk it greedily, it was heaven to his parched throat.  

She had some more water by her side which she dipped a cloth into it and then looked grim as she said "Okay, this is going to sting" 

She reached out and started to wipe the dust and dirt from his face. 

Stiles winced as soon as the cloth touched his skin. 

"Sorry" Teressa sighed "You've been burnt badly. What were you doing out there without any protection from the sun?" 

He didn't understand. 

It was easier to talk after having the water. 

"The sun? I-I don't get it, why is it so hot?!" 

He was expecting her to laugh at him or give him a reasanble answer, instead she didn't reply. 

Teressa to focused on slowly wiping his face down as she did so a frown slowly came over her face. 

"That... can't be right" She muttered. 

Teressa started to wipe his face down quicker, her breathing quickening. 

Panic and confusion soon shined on her face. She stood up suddenly, dropping her cloth to the floor. 

Suddenly Stiles let out a pained gasp as he was slammed against the wall, a knife at his throst. 

Where the hell had that come from?!

"Who are you?!" She demanded, holding him against the wall, he was to weak from the sun and in shock to try and defend himself. 

What was wrong with her?!

"I'm S-Stiles!" He choked out. 

"Tell the truth!" 

"I am!" 

Teressa's eyes narrowed on him then she called out quickly and urgently "Thomas! Come in here!" 

Stiles did not understand what the hell was going on. 

But then... 

_He did..._

His rescuer was soon in front of them, his determination in helping Teressa in whatever she needed was given way to pure confusion. 

Thomas was standing there, without his face being covered. 

And he... 

 _Looked almost exactly like him_! 


	4. Outsider

They stared at each other, both thinking the same thing, this couldn't be possible! Yet it was... 

The only explenation that made sense to Thomas was that they were related somehow and were separated before the maze but Teresa didn't seem to recognise him, the other reason that Thomas could think of was that this was some sort of elebarote test by WICKED. 

He stood tall, facing this imposter and growled "Who are you?!"

Stiles on the other hand had a number of ideas rush through his head at why this person could look like him, one they were related somehow but that was far to far fetched, however the other idea... he always thouhgt there was a possibility of parralel universes, was this him? In a parralel universe? Because this couldn't be his world.

His world wasn't scorching hot and burned like that, his world wasn't whatever hell this was but he couldn't tell them his theory, if they believed him what then? But if they didn't and they thought he was crazy? He wouldn't put it past this version of him to kill him.

"I don't know! I-I can't remember anything, all I know is my name, please help me" Stiles pleaded, knowing the weaker he looked the more likely they would help him and not consider him a threat.

A strange expression creeped up on Thomas's face at Stiles words. Thomas and Teresa glanced at each other.

"Can I talk to you for a sec in private?" Thomas asked, gesturing with his head to go outside the cloth that was hiding Stiles from view.

Teresa nodded and they quickly walked away, their harsh voices Stiles could hear but not their conversation.

He waited for their discussion anxiously, it was strange, he was surrounded by all these people but... he'd never thought he could feel so alone.

"You can stay with us but any funny buisness and I'll kick you out there and watch the sun burn you alive, you understand?!" Thomas came back, still glaring at Stiles.

Who nodded quickly. He'd be a fool not to nodd.

Thomas gestured with his hand for Stiles to get up and follow him. He showed everybody else Stiles, everyone was either suspiscious or interested.

To Stiles surprise most were just suspiscous of the fact how he got there and his face looking exactly like Thomas's but not at all suspiscious over the fact he'd told them he couldn't remember anything, they accepted that really easily.

Stiles joined them all when dinner was ready, only a measly pile of beans for everyone, they tasted like fungas. No one sat next to Stiles but he was close enough for them to hear him complain.

"Not suprising, they've probably gone of but we haven't got anything else" Newt so far had been the nicest to him out of everyone.

He wasn't sitting next to him but his body language was open and friendly, everyone else was much more closed of, especially Thomas.

Stiles awkwardly stood up and sat next to Newt, wanting to hear more about this strange place.

"Do you know why the sun is so hot here? Where are we? Why is everyone okay sigh my memories being gone? What's going on?"

Newt chuckled "Woah, slow down, I can only answer so much at once"

Stiles coughed awkwardly "Ah, sorry"

Pretending he wasn't aware of everyone paying attention to their conversation, Newt seemed to ignore it as well.

"In the shortest terms the sun scorched the ear, the solar flares reached us and bsasically caused this-this..." He struggled to find a word for it.

"Hell?" Stiles muttered.

Newt looked sad then and the light that was in his eyes dimmed, he suddenly looked tired, exhausted even "Yeah... _hell_ "

Something clenched in Stiles gut, looking into this guys eyes, how could he be so selfish, worrying about himself and how he complained about their food? They all lived in this hell every day, the life he'd lived suddenly seemed so much more fortunate than what he used to think it was... 

Could he have survived here? 

No, wait he _knew_ he could but he'd have to turn into _that_... 

Thomas was a version of him who had suffered most of his life and had evey happy moment stripped away. Thomas seemed sad, angry and... much more serious. Stiles couldn't imagine that kind of life. 

But these people Stiles had noticed all looked up to _him_ , followed Thomas's lead. He was... in charge in this word, responsable for these people. Like Scott was responsible for the pack. 

He'd never thought of himself as much of leader that was always Scott's role. He was just... the funny side kick _but_ Stiles thought I guess I know I can step up to the plate if I need too, not that he hoped he'd ever need too. 

Stiles compared it to his world, trying to see through Thomas's eye. In similar tems, Thomas was the alpha here and these people were his pack. 

And Stiles? 

Stiles was just the outsider. 


	5. Caught

 

Stiles awoke to heat and shouting. 

"Get up! Get up now!" Someone was shouting in his face.

"Newt?! Leave him!" 

"I can't! What if his-what if his-" 

"I don't know him! He's just a stranger! I'm not having you die for a dam stranger! Newt!" 

Stiles groggily woke up to find Newt in his face, roughly shaking him. 

Before he could react he was pulled roughly upwards and shoved in the direction of the exit, towards the killing sun. 

Wait, what?! 

"Put this on!" Newt shouted in his ear. 

He was handed a scarf to wrap around his face, protection from the suns glare, thankfully the sun had started to go down despite being boiling still it didn't feel like it was going to kill him like last time. 

The ground shuddered underneath them and then a loud explosion sounded of close to them. Newt made it to the car before he did, far more used to running in these conditions. The car started up and Stiles eyes widened as he quickly realised what could happen if he didn't hurry up. 

Newt held out his hand. 

"Come on!" He shouted. 

Stiles sped up, it was remarkable at how fast he was when he thought he was going to die. Sweaty damaged hands grabbed Newts own and he was pulled up quickly, just as he was pulled up the car started to move quickly. 

"What the hell Newt!" 

Thomas was also there, glaring at his friend. 

Newt just let out a sigh, relaxing in a way Stiles could never achieve on a car while driving at full speed on the the sand dunes. 

"Its fine, we're both fine" 

"You could have died!" Thomas hissed. 

"But I didn't" Newt replied a little more firmly. 

Thomas looked like he wanted to argue further but stopped himself, glancing up at where Stiles was, not wanting it seemed, to continue in front of their uninvited guest. 

Stiles turned around to see the place they were staying up in smoke, he noticed helicopters were surrounding the place. Was that WICKED? The reason they had run?

Had everyone got out safely? 

Where were they going now? 

Seriously, where the hell was he? 

He also had a feeling if he asked any of these questions, judging the atmosphere by Newt and Thomas's argument he might get strangled or something.

After about half an hour of tense silence everything seemed to still and suddenly without warning he heard Thomas shout to whoever was driving to go faster, his voice sounding panicked. 

Then Stiles heard why.... 

The sound of a helicopter. 

WICKED was here. 

A women Stiles didn't recognise loaded up a huge gun which looked slightly more like an actual cannon than a gun, with surprising ease she lifted it to point to where the sound was coming from. 

Then out of the clouds...they came. 

Stiles watched in terror as sound of bullets being fired, explosives and screams filled the air. Shouts from his car but also screams from all around, he couldn't see them but he guessed there must be other cars around that housed the rest of the group he had seen in the abandoned building. 

Suddenly it all happened in a instant. He didn't know who shouted or who grabbed him, all he knew was he heard someone shout "Jump!" 

Then the next thing he knew he was thrown from the car and fell face first into the gritty, unforgiving, dry sand. There was a loud far to familiar sound from behind him and a incredible wave of heat. 

Stiles glanced behind him, he was horrified to see their car had exploded. 

"Everyone up!" 

It was Thomas. 

Stiles let out a breath of relief over the fact his basically other self hadn't died. 

He started to scramble to his feet when a not so familiar voice spoke up with a sinister undertone. 

"I don't think so Thomas" 

Stiles then realised, taking a proper look at their situation, they were surrounded by soldiers who had their guns pointed directly at them.  
They had been caught.

The symbol WKD was sown into their uniforms, a man standing in front, his eyes on Thomas, who was standing in front of their group protectively. 

His eyes were full of anger and hate, also familiarity?

Stiles wondered how they knew each other. 

"Janson" Thomas practically spat.


End file.
